“Sometimes I wonder why I came here,” Walt said.
“Are you kidding?” I asked. “You’re great at magic. One of the best! You’ve got a future here.”
He pulled something out of his pocket—one of the dried-up scarabs from the practice room. “Thanks. But the timing…it’s like a bad joke. Things are complicated for me, Carter. And the future…I don’t know.”
I got the feeling he was talking about more than our four-day deadline to save the world.
“Look, if there’s a problem…” I said. “If it’s something about the way Sadie and I are teaching—”
“Of course not. You’ve been great. And Sadie—”
“She likes you a lot,” I said. “I know she can come on a little strong. If you want her to back off…”
[Okay, Sadie. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. But you aren’t exactly subtle when you like somebody. I figured it might be making the guy uncomfortable.]
Walt actually laughed. “No, it’s nothing about Sadie. I like her, too. I’m just—”
“Agh!” Khufu barked so loudly, it made me jump. He bared his fangs. I turned and realized that he was snarling at the scrying bowl.
The scene was still Gran and Gramps’s living room. But as I studied it more closely, I realized something was wrong. The lights and TV were off. The sofa had been tipped over.
I got a metallic taste in my mouth.
I concentrated on shifting the image until I could see the front door. It had been smashed to pieces.
“What’s wrong?” Walt came up next to me. “What is it?”
“Sadie…” I focused all my willpower on finding her. I knew her so well that I could usually locate her instantly, but this time the oil turned black. A sharp pain stabbed behind my eyes, and the surface of the oil erupted in flames.
Walt pulled me back before my face could get burned. Khufu barked in alarm and tipped the bronze saucer over the railing, sending it hurtling toward the East River.
“What happened?” Walt asked. “I’ve never seen a bowl do—”
“Portal to London.” I coughed, my nostrils stinging with burned olive oil. “Nearest one. Now!”
Walt seemed to understand. His expression hardened with resolve. “Our portal’s still on cool-down. We’ll need to go back to the Brooklyn Museum.”
“The griffin,” I said.
“Yeah. I’m coming too.”
I turned to Khufu. “Go tell Amos we’re leaving. Sadie’s in trouble. No time to explain.”
Khufu barked and leaped straight over the side of the balcony—taking the express elevator down.
Walt and I bolted from my room, racing up the stairs to the roof.
S A D I E
7. A Gift from the Dog-headed Boy
WELL, YOU TALKED LONG ENOUGH, brother dear.
As you’ve been babbling on, everyone’s been imagining me frozen in the doorway of Gran and Gramps’s flat, screaming “AAHHHHH!”
And the fact that you and Walt bolted off to London, assuming I needed to be rescued—men!
Yes, fair enough. I did need help. But that’s not the point.